Glory
by Rooscha
Summary: Pre-war. AU. Megatron is beginning his bid for glory. All he needs are funds, men and a beautiful femme by his side. Sometimes finding an obedient femme is harder than it looks.
1. Chapter 1

I'm giving this fic a chance. It's been a bunny in the brain for a while. It's AU, pre-war Megatron. I'm going with the mine-worker-turned-tyrant bit. Also, I do not own Megatron, Nova or anyone else recognizable. I hope I kept Megatron in character. Give it a chance and review, so I can post faster and more later. This is just the intro. Shit will hit the fan shortly, if people like this fic enough. (And our main femme is not as she seems. See end AN after chapter.)

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><p>Megatron smirked at his reflection in the highly polished glass. He sat in a high-backed posh chair with a cube of the highest grade of energon in his hand. This was indeed 'the life.' If this was the how the aristocracy lived on a day-to-day basis, he might have to move up his next attack and receive more tributes. He leaned back in the chair, kicking his long legs out in front of him and waited for Windwing to speak.<p>

The older mech was seated opposite of him, but seemed uncomfortable in his own domicile. Windwing's posture was tight, his back straight as a rod and he was perched on the edge of his seat. His own cube of energon was abandoned on the table between them. Windwing was also staring out of the highly polished glass, though his optics were unseeing. Megatron surveyed the other mech, deciding that the older mech was far too involved in his own thoughts to speak first.

"Councilmech," Megatron began, allowing his deep voice to reverberate around the silent room. "I believe that you did not call me here to treat me to a view of Kaon and high grade. Shall we discuss business?" Megatron leveled his blood red optics at the Council member, allowing his optics to do the rest of his speaking.

The other mech seemed to snap out of his daze, focusing his optics on Megatron's own. Red optics met blue optics and the world seemed to slow. Megatron realized how desperate the elder mech had become. Internally, Megatron was pleased. If Windwing had made the realization that no matter how wealthy he may be, his family was always at risk, then other members of the council will have come to the same conclusion. Megatron almost felt bad for Windwing. The once proud and illustrious mech had been reduced to the crumbling mech before his very optics.

"I am prepared to offer the Decepticon cause four million credits in turn for a guarantee that my family will remain safe and be forewarned of any attacks on or near this domicile." His optics turned icy, his posture relaxed. It appeared that the mech had reached inward and drawn on a reservoir of inner strength.

Megatron turned his attention back to the windows, breaking optic contact with the other. There was no reason to allow the councilor the satisfaction of knowing that he was pleased with Windwing's offer. He swirled his energon cube before taking a sip, still concentrating on his beloved city of Kaon. At that very moment, there were Decepticon insurgents all around the city, out recruiting for his cause. Those three million credits would be of great help to his cause.

"I would be willing to acquiesce to your terms, if you also pledge your allegiance within the court system to the Decepticon cause." Windwing was silent, optics staring blankly into his energon cube. The mech slouched down, setting his energon cube on the table between the two mechs. His elbows rested upon his knees and his helm fell into his waiting hands.

Megatron realized that for the first time in life, he was seeing a mech be defeated by worry over his own family. Megatron was no fool. Love was a powerful emotion and family was the most important thing to most mechs. Love strengthened Cybertronians under the best of circumstance, but love was so easily manipulated. Windwing was a stupid mech. Megatron would have never allowed another mech to threaten his family, especially not his femmes.

"I will. I swear it, my Lord. I will stand by your cause within the council and out of it, so long as you uphold your end of the bargain." Windwing cast Megatron a sharp look. Megatron chuckled darkly, liking the mech more and more as the breems flew by. There he was, sitting dejectedly with his helm in his hands, but still trying to appear menacing.

"I will protect your family and property, do not worry so, Windwing." Megatron let his tone be condescending, knowing the other mech had no choice but to accept his domination. Megatron realized that was the key difference between himself and Windwing. Their abilities to dominate other mechs were completely different. Windwing dominated the courts and was the alpha male within the safe confines of his precious high council. Megatron, however, was the alpha male of an entire an army. And was working towards dominating an entire species.

The semi-companionable silence they had been sitting in was disturbed by the sound of the domicile door opening and closing and the dulcet tones of femme voices came floating into the den. Windwing's helm snapped up, and his optics brightened marginally.

"My Lord," Windwing bowed, "I will return in a few moments. I need to welcome my femmes home." With another small bow, Windwing left his den in the capable hands of the soon-to-be warlord.

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><p>"My femmes!" Windwing announced as he walked into the living room.<p>

"Windwing."

"Father."

Both of the femmes returned to him, respectfully and honorably. Seeing the respect and adoration in both pairs of optics made shame fill his entire frame. Hopefully Primus would take pity upon his spark and know that he only supporting a tyrant to protect these two beautiful femmes standing before him.

"'Wing? How was your day, Sweetspark?" His beautiful mate, Emberstar asked him from where she was busily unpacking her treasures, undoubtedly picked up after a long day at the market.

"It was fine. I met with some members of the high council and we discussed the upcoming war." At his words, Emberstar looked sharply towards their daughter and then flicked her optics towards her sparkmate. Windwing recognized the warning clearly. They had been bonded for almost a millennia, and while others had been bonded for much longer, they had enough experience with each other to know simple warnings.

"What upcoming war?" Onyxstar piped up from the corner of the room, where she was on her knees rearranging her collection of hand-made jewelry. Ember's optics bore into his own and he cringed, knowing his day had just transitioned from bad to worse in one fell swoop.

"It's nothing for beautiful young femmes to worry over," Windwing paused, processing his thoughts, "And that includes the both of you." He added quietly, pouring the rest of his energy into the authoritative statement.

"You can get away with whatever you like so long as you keep calling me young, old mech." Ember teased her mate quietly, crossing over to him and wrapping herself around his frame. He allowed their bond to open, pouring his shame and frustration to his mate, but following that with his intense love for both her and their daughter.

Ember's optics dimmed with worry but Windwing shook his head, indicating that they would speak later. Onyx got up gracefully from her spot on the floor and picked up her well-loved datapad and opened an open terminal, which was set into the wall. She immersed herself into her homework, beginning her work and staying quiet.

Windwing's gaze softened, knowing that he was doing all this work for her sake. He needed to protect his family and his young femme. With his mate wrapped in his arms and his young femme in his sight, he felt at ease for the first time that night. When Onyx turned on the music at her terminal, he knew she was no longer paying any attention to himself or his mate.

"There's one more thing, Ember." He hesitated, unsure of what her reaction was going to be. His mate could be unpredictable and formidable when angered. "I have had a meeting with Lord Megatron today and we were unable to finish before you two got home." Ember tensed in her grasp, but he plowed on. "He is waiting for me in my study. Please, Ember. Warm all of us some evening energon and he'll be gone before we know it. Don't worry about the costs. I've budgeted for them for a while now." He dropped a kiss to her helm and desperately stroked their bond with fondness and love.

Ember shook slightly in his arms. Emberstar had been ranting and raving about the Decepticons for joors, preaching about the tyranny and oppression. However, there was no doubt that the Decepticons and Megatron were going to come out of this war on top. They had three times the forces of the Autobots and the war had not officially started and they were still recruiting. Windwing had known that his decision was going to make his mate angry, but he was the head of the domicile and he had to do everything in his power to protect his femmes.

Without a word, she turned and stalked towards the energon dispenser in the middle of the room. Even though she was furious, he still could not help but admire her beauty. He was just as in love with her today as he had been when they had first bonded. Her red paint coloration was the color of her side of the bond, vibrant and passionate. He wanted to make love to her even now, with a tyrant in the next room over and his own daughter in the room. He simply wanted to scoop her up and take her to their berthroom and soothe her anger. But, there was no way that was going to happen.

He sighed and turned toward his den, checking to make sure that Onyx was still involved with her work. Her black visage could barely be seen; she was so engaged with her work that she had almost melted into her desk.

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><p>As Megatron sat in the darkness, waiting for Windwing to return, he was pondering. Pondering life and death. Mostly life. He was not a mech to dwell on death. It was an eventuality, he knew that he would one day join with Primus in the well of Allsparks to be judged and perhaps he would be sent on to Unicron.<p>

It mattered not, he realized. For now, he poised to be the most influential mech Cybertron had ever seen. He could change the way Cybertron was run and how mechs and femmes worked. He could literally change life as they all knew it. The thought sent an electrical pulse up his spinal column.

For all of his life up to that point, Megatron had only questioned the status-quo, but had never openly rebelled against it. Now that he was rebelling, it was the most rewarding experience he had ever had.

Femmes were crawling all over him, offering their bodies for his pleasure and their minds for his propaganda work. His warriors were of varied backgrounds, but they were all invaluable. In the beginning of the Decepticon uprising, he had been disappointed by the lack of trained warriors in his ranks. However, as they got closer and closer to launching the first attack of Iacon, he was grateful for the skills his new warriors brought. He had actors and strategists and energon makers and refiners. He had femmes and mechs of all backgrounds and body types. He had fellow mine workers and he even had some elite members of society behind him.

He smiled, taking a sip of his energon. Life was good. All that was missing was a femme by his side. Every great ruler of Cybertron had an equally distinguished mate. Some of the most interesting literature he had read had come from Nova Prime's archives, which was centered around his mate. Although he never named his mate within the text, it was well known that Nova's mate was Sunsetter, a beautiful femme. Megatron had once seen a statue of her when he was in Iacon at the library complex.

Within the text, Nova had given a biography of his life and his strategies for warfare. However, it was the section on love that had baffled him. Nova Prime, one of the most vicious Primes Cybertron had ever seen, had accredited his strength to his mate. Megatron had never given any consideration to femmes or love. In the mines, femmes were few and far between. He had also seen love as a supreme weakness, something easily exploited. However, Nova Prime had been a very smart mech and had convinced him differently.

Nova asserted that femmes were valuable, not only for their ability to create life, but for their reasoning and deductive skills. Nova had affirmed that his mate had been one of his best advisors during war time, because she had valuable foresight. Not only had she been a strategic advisor, but she had also provided Nova with a soft place to lay his helm at night. Nova had stated that, 'There was no greater comfort after a stint on the battlefield than to lie in my lover's arms. To know that she was the center of all my life and that without her, I would be lost. Without that knowledge, I would have lacked the inner strength to conquer all that lay in my path.'

Ever since reading the near-poetry, every night's recharge had seemed a little lonelier than the night before. If what Nova had spoken of was true, then it seemed that he was in the market for the perfect femme. But, that would come when she was thrust upon him by a higher power. He was far too busy making history to have time to go out and femme catch.

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><p>"Lord Megatron." Windwing bowed as her came back into the room. "Thank you for allowing me time to see my femmes." Megatron nodded back to him, swirling the dregs of his energon. Luckily, he was a large a mech, and the high grade had barely even relaxed him, not even coming close to making him over energized.<p>

Windwing sighed, dropping himself into his chair, scooping up his high grade on the way down. Without a sound, Windwing threw back his helm and downed the remainder of his energon.

"Rough time with your femme?" Megatron asked quietly, feeling oddly relaxed and knowing that there was nothing more Windwing would like than for him to leave. By keeping his aft firmly planted in his chair, he was once again asserting his dominance. (Albeit lazily.) Megatron allowed his helm to roll back, resting it on the back of the chair. He relaxed his body, knowing that Windwing didn't have the courage to try to kill him. After a breem or two, Megatron stretched again, abused joints popping and realigning noisily.

"I need to return to my troops. I have news of a powerful arrangement with a councilmech to present to them." Windwing nodded, getting to his feet as Megatron did the same.

"My mate has warmed our evening energon if you would like to partake. If not, please consider taking it with you." Megatron nodded, saying nothing as he followed Windwing out of the den and down a darkened hallway. They passed several berthrooms on their way to the main rooms of the domicile.

As they entered into the living area, Megatron was struck by two things. The first being that the room smelled like femmes. The second being how impeccably clean everything was. Both were not surprising, as femmes emitted chemicals that mechs could smell from a distance, and femmes were very clean beings. However, after several vorns of working in the mines and then living in makeshift barracks, both of these things were shocking.

Megatron inhaled deeply, recognizing the scent of two femmes. One was older and bonded, but the other was young and newly enabled. His optics flared wide, looking for the source of the scent. He located the femme, who was seated on the couch in the middle of the living room. She was black as the coal in the mines. But instead of looking sooty and dusty, she shone like the moons.

Her legs were tucked under herself and in her hands was a worn-out datapad. She was the most plain looking femme Megatron had ever seen. If it wouldn't have been for her scent, he probably wouldn't even have noticed her. She blended into the darkness of the couch perfectly. Her dark coloring made her lackluster and her helm was down, completely immersed in whatever she was doing.

Megatron never would looked at her twice, even when he was in the mines and was desperate for any femme to touch him in any way. However, as a hot energon cube was pressed violently into his hand by Windwing's feisty mate, he found himself moving towards her. He was aware that Windwing was speaking to him, but he couldn't have cared less. When Megatron focused on something, there was nothing to break his concentration.

Megatron approached the femme cautiously. She looked harmless, but there were enough femmes within the Decepticon ranks that he was not willing to take chances. Looks could be very deceiving, especially when it came to femmes. As he drew even with the couch, the femme still paid him no head. She just smelled sweeter and sweeter as he drew closer and closer. And she was more and more intriguing as she completely ignored his presence.

As his shadow fell over her, thanks to the artificial lighting, she finally looked up. Her deep blue optics were no different from her father's, except that they seemed to go deeper and deeper the longer he looked at them.

"Hello," Onyx began, but realized that the imposing mech hovering above her was not paying attention to her words at all. The look in his optics was one that she had seen on her mech creator many times when he was around her femme creator. His optics were wide as they would go and his olfactory sensors looked like they were on high alert. He was staring at her with an unknown emotion on his faceplates.

Onyx was no fool. She had been educated at some of the finest universities in Kaon. And they had not failed to teach her interfacing customs. She knew that all femmes emitted certain pheromones that were translated into lines of code once they landed on the olfactory sensors of the mechs that surrounded them. For every femme, there were no more than ten mechs that were a good enough match to cause them to pursue the femme, based on smell.

The mech in front of her was exhibiting classic signs of wanting to interface with her; a faraway expression on his faceplates, optics dilated and unresponsive to outside sounds. His optics were roving over faceplate and body, taking in all of her. It made her uncomfortable on a level that she was unfamiliar with. Being a femme from a prestigious house and of distinguished blood, she was watched closely when around mechs. Seeing as how she'd be expected to undergo an inspection before she was bonded, she was expected to remain pure until that day.

Therefore she had never been examined at length like this before. The mech in front of her was ruggedly handsome, larger than her father and much broader. His shoulders and torso narrowed into a mechly waist and a powerful lower body that would have made her blush had she not been becoming increasingly unsettled. She looked over to her mother and father, who were stock still in the middle of the domicile, looking as unsettled as she felt.

"Father?" She questioned quietly, letting her datapad slip from her fingers. Her father merely shook his head, pressing a finger to his mouthplates, asking her to be quiet. She shifted her attention back to the large mech looming in front of her. To her dismay, he had moved closer to her and was now easily within touching distance. Onyx tried to move from the couch, but was cut off with a growl and a large pair of legs blocking her path.

"Do not move, femme." The voice was deep, gravely sounding. It was the voice of a mech who was significantly older than herself. Underneath the gravel was a tone of authority that seemed to cling to him. Onyx froze, surveying the mech who was surveying her. He looked a little familiar, but her parental units forbade her from watching broadcasts, so if he was famous, there was no way she would have been able to identify him. After several breems of staring at her, the mech pulled back from her, shaking his helm gently.

"What is your name, little femme?"

"Onyxstar. Everybody calls me Onyx, sir." Her voice wavered a little bit, although she had always been told to be strong in the face of fear. But, this was the scariest face she had ever seen. He just looked menacing, plain and simple. The usually feisty femme was struck by a feminine instinct to be silent in the face of an Alpha male.

"Oynxstar. Onyx." The mech tilted his helm, studying her further. "How old are you, young one?"

"Too young for you." She gasped, realizing what had escaped her vocal processors. She heard her mother gasp as well and saw her father twitch, ready to jump in if she was threatened.

To everyone's immense surprise, the mech merely laughed. He pushed himself down and his fingers caressed her faceplate with surprising gentleness. Onyx was struck by the immense proportions of his hand against her face. He could easily crush her entire helm with one of those hands. Instead, they caressed her faceplate and gently slid down to caress her neckplating and collar armor. She purred, unable to stop the reaction. The mech above her smiled, and crouched so he was closer to her than ever before. Onyx was torn between being frightened and aroused. It was the oddest feeling she could have ever thought of experiencing.

"There are certain…perks…that come with age, my little Onyx." As he spoke, he used his body to block her parental unit's view of her, laying prostrate on the couch. With their newly found privacy, he slipped his fingers into crevices in her shell. Her purring sounded choked as she tried to keep herself from making any noise whatsoever. He smiled evilly, taking note of the places that made her squeak and the areas that made her purr.

"Lord Megatron!" Windwing had snapped out of his stupor, ready to defend his daughter's honor. "I must insist that you leave my daughter alone. She is pure, my Lord and shall remain that way until she is bonded." Windwing had drawn himself up proudly, but deflated as Megatron gently pet Onyx's helm and stood abruptly, crossing quickly to stand in front of Windwing.

"Worry not, Windwing. I intend to keep your daughter just as pure as you do. However, I will have exclusive rights to her courtship from this point forward. I will play by your rules until we are bonded. After that point, she will be mine to do with as I see fit. Do we have a deal?" Megatron asked, lowering his helm to be level with Windwing.

"Yes, Lord Megatron." Windwing said, defeated by the tyrant. Ember, however, was not done and started forward, to be pulled back by her mate. Megatron sneered down at the femme, unimpressed by her irrationality. He tossed a look at Onyx, who was in the exact same postion he had left her in. Her optics were slightly fuzzy and dimmed. Megatron smiled evilly, knowing that she was going to be the best interface partner his rod would ever meet.

"At least you did well raising her. She seems to have taken after you, Windwing. See to it that her education is continued. I will be by later in the cycle to take her on a proper date. See to it that the funds are transferred by midmonth or I will take what I want by force." He started for the door, calling over his shoulder to Windwing, "Oh, and Windwing…thank you for the unexpected gift." He let his gaze linger on the stupefied Onyx for a moment before exiting the domicile.

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><p>Alright. I promise that Onyx is not easily stupefied. She will give Megatron and her other suitors (NOT TELLING) hell. She's a feisty little femme and can pack a whallop. But, she was raised in a society where being obedient is of upmost importance. It'll take a few chapters to break her out of her shell. Hopefully you'll all stick with me long enough to see that happen. Please review. Tell me what you thought and who you think is going to be her other suitor. (I smell a love triangle…)<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Despite the lack of reviews, I'm in love with this story, so I'm going to charge on. Oh. By the way, "Cortex" is property of Firefly and Serenity.

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><p>A glittering blade rose, backlit by the twin suns of Cyberton. As it reached its height, a rivulet of energon slid slowly down to its hilt. The mech steeled himself to make the final blow, he swelled in his armor. There was a moment; though it seemed like an eternity, where he appraised his enemy. His blade sliced through the air and with a sickening crunch, sliding home into its victim.<p>

On to the next video; it was nearly the exact same, but with a different opponent. This time, the large silver mech pinned his opponent with a massive foot to the chest, before the blade slid home. Video after video, it was the same story. And, each time, the crowd roared in appreciation. They roared the name of the mech, "Megatron! Megatron! Megatron!"

It shouldn't have been this intriguing. She shouldn't even have access to these videos. They were older than she was. They had been archived and were under a Beta-level encryption. It had taken a considerable effort, but she had managed to steal her mech creator's code.

Onyx's large blue optics were as wide as they go. The video's images were reflected by the glass of her optics. The monitor was casting her in an eerie glow. It was far too late for her to be awake. She should be recharging, same as her creators. And yet…here she was.

Watching video after video of ruthless, relentless slaughter was more than enough to disturb her. She felt violated. Disgusted. And yet, there was something to this mech that made her keep watching. Megatron, they called him. This mech, who slaughtered everyone in his path, had caressed her so gently.

Being the daughter of an influential mech, Onyx hadn't been able to be in the company of mechs for longer than a few moments without a chaperone. Ember and Windwing had made certain that their daughter, an Alpha-class femme, was untouched. It was vital to her family that she be pure, so her mate would be most satisfied with her.

Without her purity, she would be considered a second-class mate and would have to be mated as such. Being mated as a second class femme would mean that the best mech she could be mated to would have been a Beta.

Members of the Alpha-class, like herself, were wealthy and had lands. Onyx liked these things. Credits and property were some of the best things in life. And, with credits and property came power. Her mother had been in negotiations with a mech from the Gamma-sector, a mid-level councilor, for her to mated to.

From what she had heard of her potential suitor, he was quite a feminizer, but was very wealthy and handsome. There was something about an arranged match that disgusted her. There were too many things to go wrong. She knew that she couldn't be the type of femme to turn a blind optic to a cheating mate. Not even if he had tons of credits. She was far too greedy for that. She wanted it all. She wanted land, credits and a handsome mech who adored her.

It seemed as though Megatron had staked his claim on her, however. Her mother was very unhappy about this, because the mech from the Gamma-sector had been too frightened to secure his claim on her. (Which meant that Megatron was fearsome enough to keep high ranking members of society under his thumb.) Not that she hadn't been able to see that from the videos she had found of him.

Megatron had not contacted her since they had been together that fateful night. In the orns that had passed, Megatron's forces, calling themselves Decepticons, had launched many attacks. They had razed the city of Praxus, and were moving steadily towards Kalis. Megatron himself had not been sighted, although it was thought that he was moving with his troops.

Onyx had been doing a lot of thinking about Megatron, despite her mother's wishes. Her father had barely been around, telling both of his femmes that he was 'preparing for the worst.' Whatever that meant. Onyx had seen the vids coming off the cortex. If Megatron decided that Kaon was going to fall, there was little chance of survival. Only a few hundred mechs and femmes had made it out of Praxus with life and limb intact. Well, some probably hadn't have had limbs intact, but they had left with their lives.

She knew it was terrible. She knew that she should have been mortified and disgusted by the loss of life. Her mother and father had always taught her that every spark was precious, even though some were beneath her in the circle of life. Primus had breathed life into each and every one of them. But, a part of her, however small it may have been, was insanely impressed.

Megatron had been a gladiator. Someone who had no rank in society. Someone who had to fight for his right to drink his daily ration of energon. She herself had no idea what that would be like. She had been born into a life where her every whim had been immediately seen to. It had only been in recent years that she had been trusted to have her own cortex. Her parents hadn't wanted to expose her to the daily struggles of mechs like Megatron

But, here she was, watching nearly illegal videos of Megatron. Videos that were making her shiver. He was magnificent. He really was. He had risen up from the mines, to the gladiatorial pits and was now attempting to take Cybertron by storm. And, best was that he was actually succeeding.

Onyx shook her helm, taking note of the late hour. She offlined her data-pad and climbed into her berth, clambering under the covers. She pulled them up to her chin, resting her helm on the small pillow under her head. She offlined her optics, willing herself to just go to recharge.

Her processor, on the other hand, had other ideas. Darker, more sensual ideas. Her processor immediately took over, showing her images of Megatron that she had found on the cortex. All of Megatron with his trademark smirk on his face. Her body began to heat as image after image flashed through her processor.

Onyx knew what mechs and femmes were meant to do together. Primus had made them to fit perfectly. One mech and one femme, sharing their very lives and essences. She had seen videos in her classes. Videos that explained coupling in the least sensual way possible; in the most sterile, politically correct way possible. And yet, that still hadn't stopped her from being intrigued.

It was probably natural. Onyx had seen how her mother and father had interacted. They were openly affectionate with each other, often rubbing on each other in an almost innocent way. She had audio units; she knew that her parents were often amorous with one another while she was doing other things.

She also had other friends. Friends who weren't Alphas. Even just one step below her- Betas- were able to 'play' a little more than she was able to. She had often spent long nights with her three best friends, listening to them talk about their various escapades. Onyx had giggled and played along with them, asking questions about their affairs. But, when they had settled down for a few moments of actual recharge before the dawn broke, she had curled up on herself and let the sorrow wrap around her.

She had spoken to her mother about these feelings not more than a vorn or two ago. Her mother had settled down with her on the couch and gave her the 'talk.' Ember had spoken much more in-depth and with much more compassion than her professors. Ember had spoken of love and of scents. She had spoken of lines of code and of what mechs and femmes did behind closed doors.

Onyx's processor kept showing her pictures of Megatron. Her cooling fans kicked on noisily, letting her know that it was going to be a fight to sleep. She stubbornly ran her recharge coding, wishing her processor to be silent. Slowly she drifted into recharge, with images of Megatron still planted firmly in the forefront of her mind.

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><p>Megatron sighed and leaned his helm against the wall. At least the wall was cold enough to soothe his aching processor. His forearms were braced on the wall above his head, making him appear slightly comical. Not that any of the other mechs in the room would have voiced that. No, they were just as intimidated by their Lord as the next mech.<p>

"I do not understand why this is taking so long." Megatron's baritone rang through the room, demanding answers. His mechs were slow to answer.

*SLAM*

Megatron's fist made contact with the wall, denting the metal easily. It buckled and gave way, as did the mechs in the room.

It was Soundwave who answered. "My Lord, the campaign is going as planned. The beginning of the campaign merely moved much faster than anticipated. However, we are still on track to take Kalis within a few vorns." Soundwave remained perfectly still throughout giving Megatron the bad news.

Megatron pushed his giant hands against the wall, propelling his body to an upright stance. He growled at the mechs in his office, thoroughly entrenched in his bad mood. "Dismissed."

As the mechs filed out of his office and his rooms, Megatron walked back into his chambers. He shut the door firmly and sank down into his berth. His berth was plain and had neither pillow nor any coverings. He was a simple mech. He had no need for fancy words or fancy things. Oh, they were nice perks, but when it came down to it, he didn't need them.

Megatron sighed as his aft hit the berth. He was worn out. There was no way around it. Rallying the troops day in and day out had taken a lot of energy. All of his soldiers and high command had been at a full out sprint for almost an entire deca-cycle. All the running and destruction had his energy levels at an all-time low.

He shifted so he was lying down fully. With a breathy moan, he ordered the lights to deactivate and his door to lock. He knew that in order for a mech to break in, it would require the strength and skill to overcome Barricade and Hardcore, as well as Soundwave. While his trust was shaky with the formers, he placed full trust in the latter.

He tossed an arm over his exhausted optics, finally allowing them to power down and leave him to his thoughts. This was the time of day he dreaded most. This was the time when his processor would shut off and his spark would begin to make its demands. And, lately, his spark had been preoccupied with a certain femme.

It was bullslag. It was. He should never be so occupied with a single being; other than himself, or course. She was so utterly interesting. He gone through, time and again, and analyzed the coding. When her scent had hit his receptors, he immediately translated the code into a very secure portion of his processor.

That section of his processor that dealt with all the important things in his life, like battle strategies and energon stockpile locations and the like. It was insane. A femme had never managed to find her way into that portion of his mind. Some mechs had managed it, briefly, but only because they were suspected of treachery or because they were unique to a plan of his. But never because of coding.

That stupid femme had not left his thoughts since he had left her. While he had made it clear to her father that he was going to court her, and could very well bond with her, he hadn't expected her to rule him from afar. Take last cycle. He had been in the middle of raising the city of Praxus. While he was commanding his troops to carry on and be brave and heroic, he had been wondering what that stupid femme was doing.

When the news crews had begun filming and reporting on the battle, he had swelled in his armor. Not because of pride, but because she might see him on the evening news. He found himself wondering what kind of gifts she would like. Was she the type of femme who would appreciate a rare stone from off planet? Would she enjoy a rare plant? Or would she scorn him for it and reject his advances?

Her mother unit had certainly been unhappy with his mere presence, so she was surely busy poisoning her daughter against him. He smirked, initiating his recharge sequences. Perhaps it was time for him to visit a Decepticon loyal femme and get this itch out of his systems. It had been almost half a vorn since he had taken a femme.

A femme named Night-Sequence had been new to the Decepticon ranks. And, being her commander, he had welcomed her to his army in the best way he knew. With a good, hard, frag. And it was a wild experience. She had been a femme who could evenly match his hunger for interface. They had spent nearly two entire cycles in each other's company, fragging each other senseless. Word had just reached him that she and Firebender had just bonded and had been moved into bonded housing.

At least he had gotten a bite of her before she settled down and attached herself to one of his best tacticians. Hopefully the two of them would produce strong, loyal sparklings to the Decepticon cause. But, that still left him the problem of being alone in his quarters. No femmes to frag or dominate. At least, he consoled himself, he would be back home in Kaon within a few deca-cycles and then he would call upon his femme.

He cursed himself, remembering that he had promised that stupid femme's father that she would remain untouched. Although that did give him quite a lot of wiggle room. She would remain pure until she was bonded, but that did not mean that he could not introduce her to a few ways to enjoy a partner without delving into her port.

He shuddered; his mind had already run off with images of her innocent little black hands wrapped around his rod. In his fantasy, she was looking up at him with wide, round blue optics, pleading with him to take her. He would tell her 'no,' maintain his dominance over her and her wants. He would, however, teach her to pleasure him well and then he would teach her about her own pleasure.

She would be so beautiful in her innocence. Her optics would be wide and questioning, her words would be like a smooth silk tracing over his audios. She would learn to pleasure him quickly, and she would learn to revel in her own pleasure just as quickly. He would lay her down on his berth, denying her request for the lights to be dimmed. He wanted to see her face and her body, fully. She would blush furiously when he would kiss her and begin lazily working down her body to where her innocence would be covered. He would do for her what he had never done for another femme. He would gently take off her coverings and bring her to completion with his glossa.

Megatron shook his helm in the darkness of his room. Letting his imagination run away with him in these twilight hours only served to torment him. One day he would be able to have his femme, but that day was far in the future. For now, he thought as he turned on his side, I will simply have to recharge and push farther into Kalis.

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><p>Onyxstar awoke with a start. Her alarm clock was blaring, falling from her nightstand and rolling all around the room on its set of wheels. She hastily threw off the covers on her berth and began chasing down the wily little inanimate box of noise. Once she had sufficiently pounced on it and placed it back on the nightstand did she stop and stretch.<p>

She yawned and made her way into the washroom of her domicile, where she washed her face and waxed herself in preparation for a new day. Today she was supposed to go with her mother into the city to help her pick up some fresh energon as well as a few other supplies. While her mother could always just employ the help of a drone, going together had always been a mother-daughter bonding experience they had enjoyed.

Today, however, her father was nearly beside himself trying to make preparations for a body-guard to go with them. He had called a multitude of 'Bots, only to find out that most of the bodyguards were far too busy tailing others within the complex. The few that weren't on full detail were picking up and heading to either the Autobot army or the Decepticon army. Emberstar wouldn't be swayed, Onyx found out as she walked into the kitchen that morning.

"No. I don't think you understand, Windwing. We need to go get energon."

"I can just as easily go get energon by myself as the two of you can!"

"Oh, please. You have no idea what kinds of energon we're low on right now, darling. What additives are running low? What grade are we completely out of?" Emberstar asked, as she leaned triumphantly against the counters.

"I have no idea, Ember. But, how about I just pick up a little bit of everything? Or, we can do this easy way and you can just give me the list in your hand." Windwing returned, advancing on his mate.

"No! I'm not giving this up! Onyx and I need this! She's already been so freaked out about this whole Megatron debacle that we need this normalcy, 'Wing!" Ember growled at her mate, who had stopped a few feet in front of her.

Onyxstar coughed, letting her parents know that she had just arrived. "I'm actually not that freaked out. He's probably forgotten all about it. It's been a few deca-cycles since he was here and we haven't heard anything from him. He's way too busy trying to breach Kalis' defenses to think about us." She paused, looking at both of her parents, who were watching her with an almost wary expression on their faces. "Besides, I'd like to go out today. I'm itching to get out of here and pick up some more supplies to work on my jewelry."

Windwing and Emberstar exchanged glances and Onyxstar knew that they were discussing options through the bond. It was Windwing who spoke, "Actually, Onyx, Megatron's forces broke through late last night and breached Kalis. They managed to burn down quite a few buildings before calling a tactical retreat." Ember looked grim, staring at her daughter.

After a few moments of silence, Ember spoke. "We'll go into town, darling, but we're going to be quick. It's unlikely that Megatron will attack Kaon, because this is his home, but there are bound to be some rowdy mechs out on the streets. Your father has to go into work, so it'll just be the two of us. We can go, if you promise to stick with me for safety." Ember said, moving forward and wrapping her arms around her daughter in a hug.

"Of course, mother."

"Excellent! Well, my femmes, I am off to work. Please be safe, both of you." Windwing pulled both of his femmes into his embrace and squeezed them tightly, before walking out the back of the domicile, to his waiting ship. With a small wave, he was gone, flying off to a council meeting.

"Well, then, my darling, let's go." Ember looped her daughter's arm through her own, walking them towards the front domicile door. Onyx laughed at her mother's mechly antics before yanking the door open.

"I wasn't expecting two such beautiful Alpha femmes to be up at this hour." Onyx's jaw opened of its own accord and her mother's arm went slack. There, on the front steps, was Lord Megatron. And, he was covered in mechblood and dirt and soot. Megatron moved forward, forcing the two femmes back into the house. Once he had cleared the threshold, he closed and locked the door behind him.

"Lord Megatron! I must insist you leave immediately! This is highly suspect and quite unorthodox." Emberstar stated, having gathered her wits. Megatron merely smirked at her and brushed her aside gently, moving into the kitchen. He stated opening cabinets and drawers until he found an empty energon cube.

"I take it that Windwing has already departed for his meeting? Pity. I was hoping to catch him before he went. You see, he'll be stuck in Iacon for quite some time, though he doesn't know it. All incoming craft will be tagged and he'll have to wait for deca-cycles to get out of there. I guess I'll simply have to become the mech of this domicile and protect his femmes from harm." He shot a devilish grin at the two femmes in front of him. Onyx was surveying him with bright, wide optics, while Ember was staring at him with open contempt.

He initiated the machine in the kitchen to begin mixing energon and began preparation of zinc to add to his energon. He must be exhausted if he's mixing in zinc, Oynx thought, unless he only wants to be super shiny for a while. "I must apologize for coming to you in such a state." Megatron said casually, turning his back to the femmes while he surveyed Kaon out the tiny kitchen window. "I was in a hurry to return to my femme. Hello, Onyx."

"My Lord." Onyx returned, bowing her head a little, even though his back was turned. Megatron moved to the energon dispenser, pouring in the zinc when it was almost done and then he took it off the heating pad. He turned to the two femmes, taking a swig of the energon. Uncomfortable silence rang for almost a breem while Emberstar and Megatron stared one another down.

Finally, Ember looked away and spoke. "Am I to assume that you will be staying the night, then, my Lord?" At his small nod, Ember spoke again. "Then I shall take Onyx and go make up the guest bedroom for you, then."

"No." Onyx and Ember stopped turning towards the spare bedroom and turned to face the warlord once more. "No, you see, dear Ember, I need Onyx. I need her to help me clean myself. I am, as you know, filthy." To prove his point, he lifted one pede off the floor, watching as dirt crumbled back to the flooring. "I'm sure I'll need her help scrubbing off all this filth." His optics narrowed at Onyx, who had blushed and turned to stare at the floor.

"Besides, Ember. I'm going to be sleeping with young Onyx tonight. I'd hate to have anything happen to her if I was too far away to hear any intruders." His optics glinted dangerously, sending the threatening message clearly to Ember.

Ember, though furious, knew that she had been defeated by the monster. He was bigger than her, smarter than her and had an entire army at his disposal. However, she could try one more tactic, "I'm afraid that Onyx's berth is much too small for you and her, my Lord." It wasn't surprising that he had an answer immediately.

"Then she will move rooms for a while. Right, Onyx?" His malevolent optics met her innocent ones, and she nodded, dropping her helm in submission.

"If you wish, Lord Megatron." Megatron laughed silently. She was so perfect for him, but there was a fire behind her optics that he wanted to throw unrefined energon upon. She was ready to explode, but wouldn't do so in such an oppressive environment. Hopefully, she'd explode in his berth. That would be lovely.

"Now, my little femme, let's enhance that blush." Megatron said as he stalked forward and placed a hand on the small of her back. "Let's go knock some of this dirt off me and let you see your future mate in all of his glory, hmmm?"

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><p>I'm saddened that so few like this story. It's kind of my baby right now. I'm sick of Megatron fics where he falls in love and isn't a sick, evil son of a bitch. Mine is evil, but in a cunning way. I'm kind of using the Transformers: Prime Megatron. He's a bit smarter than regular Megatron. Anyways, please review. I'm looking for a little inspiration for this fic, which is best served in the form of reviews.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Alright, kids. Here's chapter three. I've been very pleased with the reviews for this story, so I've decided to keep going. I'm sorry if I didn't respond personally to your review, as I have been so very busy. But, I treasure them all and will make a serious effort to respond to each one personally this time around.

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><p>Onyx was embarrassed. It didn't happen often to femmes of the upper-class, but it was sure happening now. It had started when Megatron had stormed into their domicile and began consuming her energon. It had escalated when her mech creator had decided that it was best for them to have a tyrant living with them. It had reached boiling point when he had ordered her to wash him.<p>

Currently, she was trying very hard to grasp the patience her femme creator had tried to instill in her. Megatron was pissing her off in ways that she had never been angry before. She was intensely uncomfortable with the entire situation. There had been few times in her posh life where she had actually been truly uncomfortable. This meant that the emotion was a little lost on the femme. She was more angered than uncomfortable, but they were both mingling inside of her, making an unpleasant cocktail within her processor.

This was what she had been reduced to. Sitting in the bottom of her creator's shower, washing the legs and feet of a mech that she was currently loathing. Megatron had reduced her to nothing more than a drone. A cleaning drone, none-the-less. If her mech creator really had any idea what was going on in his domain, he would put a stop to the madness. But, no. He had to give Megatron his blessing and allow him full rights within the domicile. Idiot.

If only he knew that his only heir, his only femme creation, was sitting on the dirty floor of the wash rack, washing the feet of a bloody and dirty tyrant. There was no way that he would have allowed this. Quietly, she seethed to herself, knowing that there was nothing she could do about the current situation. But, there was a part of her that was actually a little excited by what was going on.

There she was, reduced to cleaning. But, she was indeed cleaning the most feared and powerful mech that had come forward during her- or her creator's- lifetimes. It was an experience that she hoped would never happen again, but she was desperate to be touching him. She had this powerful mech under her hands and he wasn't trying to kill her. It was exhilarating, in a way.

There was a certain heady atmosphere in the shower. The solvent was cascading over his sharp points and protrusions, running downwards and soaking her at intervals. The steam was fogging up all the mirrors in the room, giving her glimpses of the both of them, but they were shrouded in a mysterious veil of moisture. Altogether, it was a very interesting combination of feelings. She was angry, embarrassed, and…lustful? Was that the proper word for that emotion?

"Femme, if you stop scrubbing, the dirt ceases to come off." Megatron's drawl cut through her thoughts, making her realize that she had indeed stopped scrubbing, in favor of letting her thoughts and emotions govern her.

"Apologies, Lord. I am not used to such physical labors and needed a break." She said, deciding that she was sick and tired of this treatment. Unfortunately, the only way she could be rebellious was through her words and her tone. Not a very effective way of taming a beast, but it was least likely to put her in any_ real_ danger.

"Ah. I will not have any femme of mine being weak. If there is weakness in the femme, then there will be weakness in the sparklings." He looked down at her for the first time during that shower, allowing his bright red optics to cut into her blue ones.

"Perhaps the physical strength of the mech is more important than the physical strength of the femme." Onyx rose slightly off her hands, letting him know that there was no way she was going to be cowed by this stupid mech. "Perhaps it is the strength of the femme's processor that should be far more valued than any physical assets that she possess. Or perhaps it is processor that should be valued over brawn."

Megatron's optics narrowed slightly, understanding the veiled insult that she had thrown his way. He is massive hands shifted from their place at his side, to curl into large fists. His fusion cannon was thrown into sharp relief, the massive weapon showing menacingly in the soft glow of the shower.

"Perhaps I should seek a femme elsewhere, given that you are lacking in processor, as well." At the affronted look in her optics, Megatron chuckled, unfurling one giant fist and placing his hand under her chin. "If you were really as smart as you think you are, you would have known not to insult the one who is keeping you alive."

Onyx tried to turn her head away from the mech, knowing that she was walking a fine line with the gladiator. He refused to let her, clenching his hand under her jaw gently, but firmly. Her optics offlined, in an attempt to show submission. Silence reigned in the shower for a few moments. The only sounds were that of soft venting and the solvent.

"You are the oddest little femme I have ever met. You walk the edge between sweet and stupid. You walk between subtle and overt. You act as though you are not afraid of me, but then you try to show me submission at the mere thought of being called out on your impertinence. Interesting. Very interesting." He paused, seemingly evaluating her. "Tell me, little Onyx. What secrets does a femme from a prominent Alpha-house hold? There is no way that you have had a hard life. Just look at these wash racks. They are ornate, ridiculous in their splendor."

"I am a blessed and lucky femme."

"Something you have been taught to recite your whole life. Tell me what you really feel."

Something was boiling inside Onyx. Maybe it was the fact that she was so angry that this stupid mech was inside her mind and inside her domicile. Maybe it was the fact that she didn't get enough recharge last night. Whatever it was, she was ready to burst. All it took to take her to the edge was the feel of his fingers sliding across her helm.

"I feel like pretty little femmes like me deserve the best things in life." She nearly shouted, onlining her optics suddenly, facing him down. "We deserve the finest things, the biggest lands, the best mates. I deserve to drink the best energon and have all the goodies I could ever eat. I deserve to live in opulence, with a comfy recharge berth and shower racks just like this. I deserve everything you could never give me. You are filthy, barbaric. You are disgusting to me. I deserve better."

Megatron's hands stopped on her helm. They tightened there, keeping her still. His optics continued to bore into hers. However, the shadows behind them deepened, and that was her only warning. His hands moved to her upper arms, pulling her up from her position. He didn't necessarily hurt her, but there was no semblance of gentleness in his grasp. Within seconds, she was pinned to the wall of the shower, right under the solvent spigot.

The hot solvent was streaming down her face, making her optics blur. She could still see the warlord, but he was a little fuzzy around the edges. It was not necessary to see him, as he was speaking volumes with his treatment of her. Both of her wrists were snatched from where they were at her sides. He pinned them above her helm with one large hand, leaving her nearly defenseless. Anger burned harshly in her processor. Her optics narrowed, but Megatron wasn't even looking at her. He was instead looking at her feet.

"What are you doing to me?" Onyx asked while thrashing, tossing her body back and forth in his grasp. She had no real aim, but thrashing was the only thing she could think to do. Megatron, for his part, seemed less than impressed with her attempts to get away. His optics slowly trailed up her body, until he ended his journey on her faceplates.

"I am punishing you," Megatron smirked at her, tightening his grip on her hands, lifting her off the ground. As her feet left the safety of the floor, her abdomen tightened. All of her muscle cables started to clench, stemming from her middle and spreading outwards. Her limbs knotted uncomfortably, her knees drew upwards towards her middle. She was hanging by her arms, shoulder joints seizing and popping.

Her optics widened as she realized that her shoulder joints were only going to hold on for so long. They were popping and creaking, ominous noises to her audios. For almost a breem she secretly panicked, until one of her joints cracked and pain shot up the length of her arm. She squealed loudly and the noise echoed against the walls of the shower.

"Please! Please let me down. I beg of you!" Her optics were blurred under the solvent, but she could still make out his face. There was nothing but indifference. The only good news was that he didn't have the predatory look of the gladiator videos yet.

"Why?" His words were quiet and deadly serious.

"Because you're _hurting_ me!" She said, while rolling her shoulders and trying to catch one of her feet on his abdomen, if just to rest there and take some of the pressure off.

"Hmmm…Is that a good enough answer? I'm not sure. This is the first time that you've ever been in pain. Sure, you've had cuts and scrapes, but you've always been in control. When you scratch yourself, you can patch the paint. When you burst a vessel, there's someone to take you to a medic. But this…you have no control over." Megatron picked up his massive foot and dropped it against the solvent handle. The solvent cut off abruptly and gravity began taking care of her soaked body.

As the solvent flowed down her body, with it came clarity. There was a deadly atmosphere in the room. Megatron shifted his leg so that it was directly below her crotch. His knee was braced against the tiles, his foot braced against the opposite leg. Not touching her crotch, but close enough to let her feel the heat from it. She stilled immediately, feeling her body react to the heat near her crotch plate. It was a foreign feeling, one that she wasn't entirely sure she liked.

Megatron smirked. He lowered her hands enough to slide her down onto his leg. His knee was braced against the wall, and a small femme was resting with her legs spread over either side of it. She was looking at him with a look he had never seen out of the small femme. Her optics were wide, which was not entirely new to him, but it was the look of wonder that surprised him.

He had known that she was untouched, but he had suspected that she had at least been touched in an intimate manner by a mech. All young mechs and femmes had… 'trysts.' No matter what their social status was. He remembered having a fair of amount of trysts himself, even though he lived and worked in the mines. There were few femmes in the mines, usually 'legacies,' or femmes that were born into the life.

However, seeing the femme's optics wide with beautiful innocence made his spark soar. He had never been with a virgin, but he was very much looking forward to the experience with this femme. He had lied to her creator when he agreed to let them bond before he would soil her. If he waited until they bonded, there was every chance another mech would swoop in and take her. Megatron knew that he would be gone for long stretches while he was making his bid for glory.

However, if he took her when she was comfortable with him, she would be ruined in the eyes of the Alphas. Which would be perfect, as it would effectively bind her to him. There was no need for him to take her yet, because he planned to spend a few orns at her domicile. He was quite honestly exhausted. The latest set of battles had taxed his systems, and those of his mechs. He had given his standing army several orns off and had left them under the charge of Soundwave and Starscream.

Lost in his thoughts, he barely recognized the femme gently rock her hips against his leg. If not for the tiny mewl she let out, he was sure that he would have never noticed her subtle movements. That tiny noise, however, certainly did get his attention. He shifted his optics to hers, but after seeing that they were offline, his optics slid downwards.

Her lithe hips were rocking against his leg, rhythmic and short. Her upper body was against the wall, and she was using the leverage to push slightly into his leg. Her arms were still stretched up, her tiny hands still pinned by his large one. The sight was excruciatingly erotic. She was completely at his mercy, there was no escape for her now. But, the fact that she had taken the opportunity to seek pleasure meant that he was affecting her in a strongly sexual way.

He wanted to move, to pleasure her, to do anything. But, he was frozen at the sight of her. She was in an almost trance like state, her processor had taken a back-seat to the needs of her body. Her helm lolled back against the wall and her hands were spasming lightly against his hold. Her hips started grinding against his leg, instead of the rocking they had been doing earlier. Her mouth tipped open and soft pants started to erupt.

Megatron decided that he couldn't stay still any longer. He decided to start subtly, slipping his knee down the wall slightly, mak ing her hips cant forward and her back curl. She hissed her displeasure with this action, as it took pressure off her node. He smirked, gently transitioning her hands into just one of his own. With one giant hand now free, he traced down the side of her body, teasing lightly as he went.

When his hand reached her hip, he traced the joint softly. His fingers teased downward, toward her panel. She was so hot, so wet. Her lubricants were leaking onto his thigh, the light blue fluid staining him. The heat radiating off of her virgin port could be felt even behind her closed plating. Megatron threw his head back when his fingers traced along the outer edges of her panel.

She was so hot, it was making him mad. There was a light coating of steam rising off both of them, they were so hot that they were evaporating the solvent remains. His fingers slipped under one of her plates, not quite touching her port, but teasing her. (And himself.)

Her optics onlined suddenly, but her vision was white hot with passion. Megatron smirked down at her, letting her know that he was in charge of this situation, as well. Even in the deepest throws of passion, he would always be in charge. He was, after all, an alpha male. And he would see her submit to him completely, every single time they were coupled.

"Well, little femme. What would you like from me?" His fingers stopped their movements, and her hips stilled. She was too new to the concepts of pleasure to understand that she could probably get enough friction by rocking her hips against his hand. He decided to use her inexperience against her.

"I need more! Please, please, more." She desperately thrashed her head from side to side, before stilling and looking imploringly into his optics.

"This is not the first time you have pleaded with me. Perhaps you can be taught." He smirked, obviously pleased with himself. He smirked, tilting his helm down and staring down at her haughtily. Onyx tilted her helm up towards him, exposing her throat to him in complete submission.

"That's what I like to see. Submission. Just as femmes were meant to submit to mechs. You will always submit to me, sweetspark. Only good things will come from it. You are welcome to be a femme; speak your mind, be a little mean to me. I enjoy verbally sparing with you, my dear. However, you will never insinuate that I am stupid, or that I cannot provide for you." He paused, moving his finger once again, eliciting a gasp from the small femme. "I will always provide for you. You may not live in such luxury, but you will always have the energon you need to function. You will always have a safe place to recharge. And that is all you are entitled to in my presence. The more you please me, the more you will get in return."

His smirk turned to a smile as he slipped his finger into her port, teasing lightly. Her plating made it difficult for him to slip more than one joint of a finger into her. The little femme was almost beyond her processes. Her optics were dimmed, staring into his bright ones. Her helm was perched against the wall, mouthplates open. At least she would be receptive to mating, when the time finally came.

"See. Now you're doing well. You look so pretty like this; submissive, waiting for me to give you pleasure. It's perfection," He paused, stilling his finger. His visage turned from a soft smirk to a harder expression. His mouth closed to a hard line. "However, I cannot simply ignore the other infractions you have committed today."

Onyx's expression fell. Her optics brightened with desperation as Megatron's finger slipped out from her port, leaving her hot and needy. He gently traced his lubricated finger along her thigh, before his hands left her body altogether.

"No! Please, Lord Megatron. Please…" Onyx said, as she tried to slip her hands out from his, desperate to touch him. Megatron smirked once more, knowing that his femme was going to have to learn this lesson the hard way. No one went against him. He usually used other, more violent means of controlling his underlings, but the femme was special. She would learn…eventually.

"No, my femme. You have to learn that I am your master, and as such, I have to train you to my liking. Right now, you have been a terrible example of an obedient femme. I'm afraid that you will have to learn that you can't be rewarded for such poor behavior." Megatron let his leg slip down the wall, feeling his muscle cables seize lightly. His muscle cables needed a break from battle, and holding up a femme for three breems was not the way to relax them.

As his leg slipped down the wall, the small femme went down with it. Megatron nearly laughed when he looked into her face. If looks could kill, he'd have been evaporated where he stood. The venom in her optics was truly a sight to behold. Her blue optics had transitioned to a shade near violet, almost black. Her faceplates were drawn and she looked like she was a few seconds from punching him.

As her feet hit the shower floor, he released her hands. She leaned heavily against the wall, her newly freed hands rubbing her wrists. She glared at him with the intensity of the smelting pits, but all he did was smirk at her.

"I'm sorry, my dear. But, the sooner you learn, the sooner you will be rewarded." He opened the door to the shower and stepped into the blower-fan, one large hand activating the hot air. As he stood under the hot air, the small femme sank down the shower wall. Her systems were screaming at her. She was hotter than she ever been in her entire life. Her limbs were shaking like a leaf on an organic tree.

Her body slowly calmed as she sat on the cold tile floor. Little rivulets of steam were rising around her body, the droplets of solvent dissipating due to her body heat. She shivered violently, the heat of her body and the cold of the floor clashed together violently. Onyx drew her knees up to her chestplates and rested her helm upon them. She was physically and emotionally exhausted because of this evil mech.

She listened to the sounds of Megatron going about his business after his shower. The sink turned on and off, the sound of jars opening and closing rang in her audios. Heavy footsteps echoed through the small space. All the while she merely sat, defeated by her 'master.'

"Come, my Onyx. I am exhausted and I need to recharge. You need to dry off and join me in my berth." Megatron's voice was very close to her. She looked up, resting her chin on her knees. He was kneeling just outside of the open shower door. His optics had dimmed slightly, his faceplates were much softer than they had been; his expression neutral.

Onyx wanted to throw a fit, to hit him, to do anything that would hurt him. But she was so tired. Her hands hurt; her shoulders were aching and squeaking. He stretched his hand out towards her. Onyx stared at him for a few moments, but slowly reached one sore hand to grasp his own.

Megatron pulled her to her feet with a graceful tug. He guided her to the heating vent with a hand on her lower back. He turned it on and pushed her under it. As the heat poured over her frame and crept into her plating, she purred, and her optics offlined. She turned her faceplates towards the source of heat, purring all the while. When she hit a surface, she tried to pull back. Her optics turned on, noting that she had not run into the wall, but that she had rested her cheekplate upon Megatron's chestplates. She tried to back away, but Megatron rested a gentle hand on the back of her helm. He cradled her helm against his chestplates and lowered his helm.

"See," He whispered into her audio, "You obeyed me and I rewarded you with soft and gentle touches." His other hand began to slip up and down her sides, making her feel both aroused and incredibly sleepy. The heat from the vents and the softness of his touches was making her feel so safe and cared for. Her anger towards him began dissipate, even though she was desperate to hold onto it. He had embarrassed her and threatened her and hurt her. But none of that seemed to matter anymore.

"I would like to recharge now." Onyx whispered into Megatron's chestplate. His hand ceased moving on her side and he flipped off the vent system. As the room quieted, they stayed entwined, much like a bonded couple. She was being held to his chestplates like a treasured bondmate and she was snuggled against him like he was her whole universe. It almost seemed like a perfect ending to a slagging horrible day.

Megatron slowly released the hand that was cradling her helm. As Onyx pulled away from him, Megatron gently grasped one of her hands and entwined their fingers. He tugged on her softly as he stepped towards the door that led to the hallway. Onyx willingly complied, wanting nothing more than to recharge for as long as possible. Besides, Megatron had already made it more than clear that nothing was going to stop him. Not her, not her mother and certainly not her father. So, it would be the wisest thing to simply go with him.

As they walked down the long hallway that led to the extra berthroom, Onyx saw her femme creator peek out of the living room door towards them. Onyx merely nodded at her mother, telling her without words that she was okay. And that she would continue to be okay. After all, they were only going to be sleeping in the same berth. It wasn't like he was trying to take her on the run with his army.

Megatron gently pushed the door open to the guest berthroom, pulling her in and shutting the door behind them. He walked to the berth and pulled back the thermal blanket that covered it. He turned and tugged her towards him once more. He gently guided her under the thermal blanket, before making sure that the pillow was firmly beneath her helm. He then pulled the covers up snugly beneath her helm.

Megatron then walked to the other side of the berth and began stripping himself of his bulkier armaments. His fushion cannon was stripped off and perched delicately against the wall, right by his helm. It was within easy reach, should any threat arise. He slid into the berth behind her.

Onyx noted, as his giant arms came around her, that Megatron had positioned himself in such a way that he was closest to the door. If anyone or anything busted through the door, Megatron was her first and only line of defense. Her optics looked down at the massive arm that was cradling her slender frame and she decided that he was more than enough protection for her, at least for the time being.

Tomorrow, however, was a new day. A day that would dawn with Megatron knowing everything and Onyx knowing nothing. She was going to have to learn to deal with her new life. It was so new… so extremely new. Having this mech wrapped around her intimately was new. One of his legs was between her own, pressed against her. His soft venting was landing on her neck.

Everything was new.

And she liked it.

* * *

><p>It's a little shorter than I would have liked, but it was the only place that felt natural to cut it off. Next chapter is where the real excitement begins for our favorite couple. For now, I really just wanted to establish the dynamic of their relationship and give Onyx a chance to be sassy. I hope that she's not too Mary-Sue, but she is being challenged for the first time in her entire life. I think I'd be fairly easily cowed if Megatron started trying to get me to submit. Please review. I eat them up like cookies and cakes. They are my favorite. They motivate me, they make my brain work. So, please. Review. Review.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

It was awkward…to say the least. She'd never slept with anyone before, least of all a gladiator. He was large and worst of all, he was warm. Onyx and her mother were always cold. It made her father laugh, especially when he was snuggling with both of his femmes on the couch. It wasn't her fault that she was a femme. It wasn't her fault that she was cuddling the overlord with gusto.

It was really a little too comfortable for her taste. The berth was soft and smelled like a mech. The covers were perfect; not too light, not too heavy. The pillows, she assumed, were also soft and fluffy. She assumed this because at the moment, she was not allowed to go anywhere near them. Megatron was doing a fantastic job of keeping her pinned down.

The overlord had her pinned against his chest, with his own helm resting quite comfortably upon the pillows. Her helm, however, was relegated to resting against his arm. Which, she had to admit, was not as warm and comfy as it had been a few hours previous. Now, she was warm…and her neck ached.

Luckily for her neck, it was nearly dawn. Didn't military types usually wake themselves early? She certainly hoped so. Onyx sighed and tried to get into a slightly more comfortable position, careful not to disturb the mech next to her.

A deep growl rippled from Megatron's chest. Her helm vibrated just a little and she suppressed a giggle. His arms tightened around her slightly, squeezing gently. His growl trailed off into a soft purr.

It was time for 'her' mech to wake up. Her neck was only going to take a few more moments of this before she died. Carefully, she began to rub her helm against his arm. This helped loosen the cabling in her neck, as well as soothe Megatron.

His purring grew in volume. His arms loosened just a little bit, allowing her to lift her helm. She shimmied up his chassis and just as her helm hit the pillow, Megatron rolled his bulk over onto her.

The position was terrifyingly erotic. She was trapped on her stomach with her hands pinned under herself. Megatron's weight was resting on her body, his heat nearly smothering her. When he nipped the back of her neck with his sharp denta, she went limp, unable to stop the reaction. Her programming instantly flagged him as the alpha over her.

"Good morning to you as well, little femme," His voice was like an exotic silk rubbing over a gravel road. Sexual and sensual and all mech. "You weren't trying to escape, were you?" To make his point clear, he dropped more of his weight onto her, biting into her neck a little harder. Not enough to do damage, but enough to let her know he could.

Primus help her. Why was she aroused by this situation? She should be terrified, ready to submit, but she was running hot. Lubricants were starting to flow, making her uncomfortable. Biting the pillow her face was buried in, she simply shook her head. She wasn't trying to get away. There was no way she could. Not wrapped in his arms. He was way too close and she wasn't quite that stupid.

Megatron's bite let up. Onyx lifted her helm slightly, but made no other move. It wouldn't be smart to provoke the most powerful mech on the planet. Two giant hands landed beside her helm. She shivered slightly, her body squirming lightly under him. Megatron purred at the contact.

It had been…a long time since he'd had a femme to warm his berth. There was something incredibly satisfying to his mechhood to see a shivering femme body pinned under him. Especially in this position. It was an extremely dominant and submissive position. The only way it could be better would be if he owned the planet and was living in a palace. And if she was his empress.

The femme beneath him was certainly not a classic beauty. But she was alluring. There was a latent sexuality waiting to burst out of her. Vorns of repression had stuffed her into a mold of the upper-class. And given how she was shivering and moaning under him, it wouldn't take much to turn her into a little interface pleasure-bot. One meant just for him.

The femme beneath him could easily be his empress. His reaction to her that first day was not something to be ignored. He rarely had any sort of strong reaction to anything. Slaughtering hundreds of mechs over his lifetime had made him a jaded bastard. And he liked it that way.

This femme would look fantastic as his empress. He would repaint her. She would wear the deep purple of his cause. She would be have dark black accents and be a delicate empress. The perfect contrast to him. She would bear his progeny. He would make sure that she would be pampered, all her hardships gone.

She would stand with him when he addressed the public. She would look proud and regal. He would see to it that she was protected at all times while the public could see her. It would not do for his femme to be killed. When she wasn't with him in public, she would warm his berth.

And having her pinned beneath him made him realize just how fantastic she would be. She was soft and yielding. But she was feisty and mouthy. He intended to find out if she was as mouthy when she was being taken by him.

Experimentally, he gently ground his hips into her aft. The surface of the berth gave slightly under their weight, letting her sink into it. Just as soon as she sunk down, her hips thrust back into him. He could not help the growl that escaped him.

As much as he wanted her, now was the wrong time. He needed her a little deeper in his world. There was something to be said for having a femme in a trap. Megatron needed her in a gilded cage. If he did it correctly, she would never even know that she was in a cage.

"It's time to get up, little femme. You need to get cleaned up. You have to be ready to greet the troops." With a little nip to her neck, he sat up, kneeling between her spread thighs. Onyx remained with her faceplates pressed into the pillow for a good solid half breem before leveraging herself up. Megatron's large hands settled on her hips, slipping his thumbs up and down, caressing her.

"It is…difficult to get up and clean myself when I find myself pinned by you at every turn, my Lord." She managed to keep the sass out of her voice. Just barely. But it was there, lurking just below the surface. And he would hear it. He always did.

"One of these days I'll see if your mouth is as good at working on my cock as it is at making me angry," His hands tightened on her hips, warning her. A hand on the side of her chin titled her helm to the side and he leaned forward to look her in the optics. Her optics were bright, betraying her anger and frustration. Megatron grinned as wolfishly as he could, letting her see his sharp denta. She was beginning to understand that she belonged to him.

"I live to please you, Lord Megatron," The words slipped out before she could stop them. Megatron's grin expanded, his optics darkening. A low, rumbling chuckle bubbled up from his chest, and the vibrations echoed through her chassis menacingly. With a sharp pull of his hands, she was thrown backward over his shoulder. He was holding her by the lower legs, letting her knees hook over his shoulders and the rest of her body hang limply.

He kicked the door open and walked into the hallway. Onyx came to her senses and screamed for the first time in his presence. She wasn't sure if he was going to kill her or rape her, but she was certain that one of those two things was going to happen. Maybe both. If she played her cards correctly, she'd be able to please him well enough and bargain her way out of death.

Shuttering her optics, she tried as best she could to remember the girly gossip from some of her friends. Little bits of advice that she had brushed off as inconsequential and gross could now save her life. Any little thing that could put her over the top could save her life.

And suddenly, her world flipped. Energon rushed through her system, making her slightly nauseous. She onlined her optics as quickly as she could and realized that she was seated. She was sitting on her own kitchen counter, right beside the energon dispenser. Her mother was seated at the table, optics wide and looking as scared as Onyx felt.

The reason for her mother's fear was obvious. There were at least fifteen rowdy, hardened looking mechs seated around her, all smiling lecherously. Empty energon containers were strewn all around the table. Apparently the mechs had all made themselves right at home. Onyx's spark-beat was nearly out of control, her optics roving all over her mother's frame. Not a speck of paint was out of place and she seemed to be physically alright.

"Gentlemen," Megatron placed a cube of energon in the dispenser and leaned on the counter next to her. "I trust that you have your accommodations…suitable?" At the mech's laughter, Megatron smirked and pulled out the cube of energon, taking a sip. Onyx watched him drink, feeling safer to simply sit and wait to be acknowledged.

"Onyx, darling, how was your night?" Her mother's voice trembled slightly. It was humbling to see her once proud mother bowed by the pressure of one mech. Or a group of mechs, depending on how you looked at it.

"It was perfectly fine, mother. Yours?" She masked the concern in her voice, falling into the formality that her parents had pounded into her for all of her life. If those mechs had touched her mother, she would make sure that Megatron would pay. It was worth her life to get revenge for her family.

"It was fine. This morning, however, was a slightly different story," The mechs sitting around the table laughed raucously. "You see, darling, I was rudely awakened by several large and brutish mechs breaking down the front door of our domicile. They came bearing news that they had been invited to stay by the master of the house." At that, Emberstar turned vicious optics towards Megatron.

"I'm terribly sorry about your experience, mother," Onyx's tone slipped into slight sarcasm. "I can assure you that the master of the house is most accommodating for _everyone_ under his command." Megatron continued to sip his energon, looking completely relaxed and in control. Which he was.

"What insolent little femmes you have here, my liege," A black and white mech with a vicious smile said from his corner of the room. "Perhaps I could take them off your hands and train them for a little while. I assure you that I would return them in mint condition." The mech's grin grew as he caught Onyx's optics and saw the fear within them.

"No, Barricade. I know what 'mint' condition means to you. Let me assure you that they will be trained to _my_ liking. And they will stay under my jurisdiction until _I _see fit to release them. Understood?" Barricade nodded immediately, subserviently. At Megatron's sweeping and questioning optics, the rest of the mechs crowded around the table vigorously nodded.

Onyx surveyed the scene with interested optics. If someone had told her that this was what her life was going to look like, she would have laughed herself silly. Of course, the chances of someone talking to her about her life were slim. Most of her 'friends' were femmes of the same social class, most of whom only cared about themselves and how many mechs were fawning over them.

Megatron's hand appeared in front of her faceplate, holding a mostly empty container of energon. Her optics locked with his. There was no way in pit that she was going to drink his leftovers. She deserved a full ration of energon, especially after all the slag he'd put her through. His hand did not waver, but his optics became darker. Onyx knew that meant that he was becoming angry with her. She wasn't afraid. Well, she was, but he didn't have to know that.

Unfortunately for her, he already did. Megatron hadn't survived in the pits of the gladiatorial ring for long without knowing what fear looked like. He knew it in himself and he could identify it in others. And Onyx reeked of fear. From the stiff way she held herself to the way that her optics were a little too bright, she told him of her fear.

"Either you drink from my hand or not at all. And I suggest that you keep your strength up. Today will be…exciting…for you." The contents of the cube swirled as he twisted his wrist in front of her. A glance around the room told her that the mechs seated around the table were scenting her for weakness. If she was going to be Megatron's femme, even temporarily, they'd want to see how easily he dominated her. Well, they were in for a surprise.

"Not at all, then." She smirked up at him, feeling as though she'd managed to overcome his dominance. Their optics met and Megatron's faceplate suddenly seemed much darker than she'd remembered.

He moved gracefully, more like a dancer than a warrior. Swift and dominantly, he stepped in front of her fully, pulling himself up to his full height. Silver armor gleamed under the lights, his body so wide that he blocked the light from her. He looked like he did in the vids…just before he killed his opponent with his mighty blade. At least he didn't have his blade ready to kill her.

Her awe must have shown on her face, because within moments of him stepping in front of her, his mechs chuckled deeply. Megatron's large hands grasped the sides of her hips, squeezing and caressing them. She gasped lightly, liking the stimulation on a base level. She was a young femme; her interface systems had only recently come online. And thanks to taboos in her upper class world, she never explored her own body.

The feeling made her remember the night before, the passionate touches and the pure need that flowed through her lines. As she relived the night, she mentally checked out of the present. Megatron watched as her optics darkened, knowing that she was becoming aroused. This was a perfect opportunity to show that he was the master of both this house and of his mechs.

The mechs he had invited to the house were among his most loyal. They were the ones that he had scared enough to 'trust' not to harm Onyx's mother. However, it never hurt to assert dominance over the mechs he brought with him. And, it wouldn't help to shut that harpy of a mother of hers up either.

Megatron leaned in and nipped her neckplates, treasuring the tiny gasp Onyx emitted. Her tiny hands left their place on the countertop and rose up to rest on his chestplates. He could barely even feel them, but the warmth they radiated more than made up for the lack of weight. With a low growl in her audio, he shuddered and moved his hands up to grasp her helm.

It would be so easy to crush her. His hands nearly engulfed her helm, his sharp fingers were more than enough to slice through the thin metal and destroy the sensitive insides. But he restrained himself. It was costly in both time and credits to find and train an empress to stand by his side. And all of his instincts and her pheromones were telling him that he was on the right track. He'd be better off to use his power to impress her and pleasure her. Sometimes an energon goodie was better than torture, especially on femmes.

One hand slipped to the back of her helm, holding her steady. Her optics were still dark, she was aroused. She was completely unaware of anything he was doing, she was lost in her memories. Hopefully they were good memories of the pleasure he had given her the night before. Even though she had not climaxed, any sort of pleasure for a virgin was processor-blowing.

"I don't think you understand yet, my dear," Megatron paused, picking up the abandoned cube of energon and swirling it right under her olfactory sensors. Her family was very wealthy and their energon was sweet and powerful. "All of the things that I _offer_ you are not really offers at all. They are thinly veiled _commands_. I veil them because you are not one of my soldiers. However, you will do as I say, because I am your Alpha. And little submissive femmes will always obey their Alphas."

And just like that, her helm was tilted back and energon flooded her mouth. She choked, swallowing the energon with abandon, trying to clear her vents and get fresh air back into her system. Megatron allowed her a few seconds to catch a breath and then pressed more of the energon into her mouth. Onyx's hands covered his own on the cube, pulling at him with all her might. When all the energon was gone, Megatron smirked at her before setting the cube aside.

"See, little one? It's not so bad. I'll take care of you, so long as you follow my orders," He assessed her with a disparaging look, taking in her scuffed paint and dull finish. "I've decided that we're leaving today. You need to get cleaned up before greeting the troops."

"These aren't the troops?" Her voice was rough, thanks to the treatment her throat tubing had just received at his hands. Next time, she'd just take the energon from him and drink it herself. It had to be better than being choked with his leftovers.

"You think I can win a war with only thirteen mechs?" Megatron chuckled before casting his eyes over the group. They were his strike team, the mechs who followed him into battle with ease and made him look good. "Well, _I_ probably could win a war with a handful of mechs, but I like to win with style. And style means showing up to defeat Optimus Prime with legions behind me. And after I sever his head, I will come back to my empress and establish an empire." At her confused look, Megatron whispered theatrically, "The empress part is you, sweetspark."

She flushed, energon lighting her faceplates. As she spluttered, trying to come up with an answer, Megatron chuckled and shut her gaping mouthplates. He slipped one arm under her legs and picked her up bridal style. With a nod to the mechs and Ember, Megatron walked out of the room and down the hallway, back to the master bath.

"I believe that you deserve to be punished for all the sassy words that have come out of your mouthplates this day." Megatron watched as the femme seemed to shrink in on herself. He was slowly starting to understand her. She was inflamed in the presence of others, thinking that she was safe with others around. "However, I believe that sometimes little femmes need to get a taste of the…pleasures…of life before I can expect them to behave well."

He walked into the bath and set her down on the side of the oil bath. He tested the temperature with his hand, finding that it was adequately hot. They were rich, after all, and had the finest things that life had to offer. He placed the tiny femme into the liquid, chuckling as she sighed in pleasure. Oh, this femme was going to be fantastic once he cleared her and trained her.

She relaxed, clearly against her better judgment, as she kept stealing glances at him. The reason Megatron wanted to move her to the base so quickly was because it looked like his troops were raring to conquer faster and harder than they were currently. He needed to be with them to rein them in and give them focus. But he couldn't leave his femme behind. Which meant that she needed to go through a security clearance before she could integrate.

Soundwave would be able to give her clearance in only a few breems, by looking into her thoughts and telling him if there was anything he should worry about. The problem was that Soundwave was not used to being gentle or subtle when digging through a mech's or femme's thoughts and emotions. Those that passed were usually disturbed. Those who did not pass were slowly tortured to death from the inside out. Megatron smirked. He loved his little operation.

He watched the little femme get settled into the bath. The small waves of oil that came out from her body were alluring, calling him towards the body making them. She was understated elegance. All she needed was a little training, some polishing of her manners and she would come into her own. Oh, and a new paintjob. She needed to be brighter. Dark colors were good for mechs and SpecOps members, but not for future empresses. Purple would be both light enough and dark enough to suit both of their needs.

She picked up the cleaning pad and started buffing her plating under the oil. Megatron dipped his fingers into the oil and took the pad away from her. There was complete silence in the room, marred only by the sounds of the other mechs being rowdy in the kitchen. He could hear the sounds of his femme's soft venting and the sound the oil made when it dripped and rippled.

He needed a femme more than he was willing to admit. She was perfect for him. She was beautiful, innocent, scared easily when alone and had a touch of sass. When she was trained and loyal, she would stay by his side and care for him. She would draw him baths and clean him. She would bring him energon in his study or office, make sure that he was fed. She would welcome him to her berth when the day was winding down.

For her to get to that point, she needed some incentive to stay with him. Oh, sure, when he was emperor, he could force her to stay, but in the meantime…

"Get out." He ordered her, snapping her out of her oil induced haze. Her optics blearily looked at him and she shuttered them slowly. Obviously not comprehending the order he had just given her. He repeated the order, sitting up and abandoning the pad he had stolen from her. She was clean enough. He'd just have to buff her plating and she'd be fine.

When she stood and the oil had mostly dripped off of her, he wrapped her in a buffing towel. He couldn't help the smirk that crept onto his faceplates. For her, it was a full body towel. For him, it would have just been a buffing towel. He was looking forward to exploring their size differences in the berth someday soon.

He scooped her up and carried her to the berth they had left not so long ago. The sheets were mussed and pillows skewed, but it was fine for what he had in mind. Onyx was squirming in his arms, getting tired of being carried like a sparkling. Megatron was a master of dominating 'bots without them even really understanding what he was doing. The more he handled her, the more she would come to depend on him and the more she would be amenable to him touching her.

As soon as he dumped her on the berth, he knew that it was time for this femme to get her first taste of pleasure at his hands. His initial plan had been to do it that morning, but his hunger gnawed at him and his need to check on his troops overrode his needs to solidify their relationship. But those needs were now fulfilled and he could focus on her. When she started to stammer and sit up, he pressed a finger to her mouth, silencing her.

He slid the buffing cloth out from under her aft and climbed onto the berth. He pulled one of her feet up onto his lap and started working the soft cloth over her plating. As he watched, two things happened. The first was that her plating began to shine, the dark colors coming to life under his hands. The second was that she began to squirm. She was already aroused, at such a small thing? Incredible. She must be still be flagging him as an alpha.

He picked up the other foot and did the same buffering treatment to it as well. Once that leg was bright and shiny, he grabbed both of her feet in both of his hands and pulled. She slid towards him and her crotch plates hit his folded knees with a soft clang of metal on metal. He remained in his kneeling position above her, loving the way her soft optics looked up at him with blatant need written in them.

In this position, he was in charge and she was at his mercy. Megatron never allowed a femme to be in control of interface. They could buck and thrust at him all they wanted, but he was always in control. It got him hot and kept his engine revving. Having a dominant femme was something of a turn-off for the warlord. And it looked as though his little femme might just be able to satisfy his need to dominate.

Instead of giving her the touches she really need, Megatron instead focused on buffing her stomach and her shoulders. He ignored her chest, thighs and port covering. Once she was huffing on the berth, squirming and showing him her blatant need, he moved to her more sensitive areas.

He buffed the soft plating of her chest, listening to her sweet moans and feeling her plating heat beneath his touch. She was wild in her pleasure, thrashing her helm and bucking against his leg. She was rubbing her port covering against his knee, just as she had the night before. At least she wasn't stupid. She knew what she wanted, even if he wouldn't give it to her. But after teasing her for the better part of a day, it was time to get them both some satisfaction.

He wanted a semblance of a relationship with her. Just…he wanted an imbalanced one, where he was the king and she was his consort. His consort with tender feelings for him. He had plans to have affection for her, but that was it. Anything more was going to be verging on a liability.

He slipped the cloth down to her legs, teasing her sensitive thighs. She certainly was an expensive build, with all this soft and sensitive metal. Not at all like his frame. He was built for heavy mine work and was then upgraded to be a gladiator. It would take more than a few tender touches to get him bucking and thrashing.

At last, he reached her port. He actually allowed himself a smile when he saw the pale blue lubricant weeping from its seams. She was more than ready for her king to sheath himself inside of her. How incredibly wanton of her. It was always the quiet, upper-class femmes that were the closet pleasurebots. He was just lucky that he'd made it to her before any other mech.

He abandoned the cloth, not wanting the material to absorb the precious fluids. Instead, he folded his finger and used a blunt knuckle to tease her port covering. He tried to trace it and tease her, but she retracted the covering before he was able to fully tease her. His knuckle instead sank into the hot and soft port of a virgin femme. Of all the femmes he'd ever had, she was by far the tightest.

On a femme who had interface experience, it was usually easy for him to slip a finger or knuckle into her port. On his femme, however, there was no such thing. Her seal was intact, leading him to simply rest against the hot plastic. A skilled medic could replace a seal and therefore reinstall a state of innocence, but there was no way this seal was replaced. The lubricants were flowing from a small tear towards the bottom. No medic would allow damaged goods to be inside of a femme.

However, a virgin femme would be naturally prone to an older seal that would eventually tear and fail on its own. Whatever the seal, he was more than excited to see it. However, he wanted to break it with his rod, not his finger. Any mech could break a seal with a finger, but he wanted to take her properly.

Instead, he decided to focus on her node. He would take her with his rod when they had more time and were safe and secure in one of his bases. At least there he had berths large enough to carry both himself and a femme interfacing wildly. He'd fall out of this berth in a sparkbeat if he tried to thrust with any sort of passion.

He trapped her node between two knuckles and gently manipulated it. Given the amount of lubricants, it wouldn't be long until she overloaded. And given the cry she emitted when he touched her, her overload was on her. It wasn't surprising, he thought, as he watched her face scrunch and her body flail. She was so worked up that even the smallest of touches would set her off. Not to mention that she lacked the skill and age to hold back and make it sweeter. Never mind that, though. He had just given the femme her first overload. And that made him very, very, smug.

* * *

><p>I hope this chapter helped flesh out Megatron a little more. He's my favorite character. He's so evil and just such a bastard. And Onyx is a little too…naïve to realize just how deep in slag she is. It'll be fun to see her reaction when she realizes it, though. Please review. It makes me so happy and it makes me want to write better for all you guys! Thank you so much. I promise that the next chapter will get the story moving. After all, Onyx gets to meet Soundwave for the first time. And, maybe…Shockwave. You'll only know if you review…<p> 


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